


my heart is a storm (but you're the sunrise)

by itsmylifekay



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex POV, Good Guy Kyle Valenti, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Michael loses control, hurt!Alex Manes, the others are there too but don't do much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 11:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: Alex has seen a lot of storms in his life. He’s seen sandstorms whip across the deserts of the Middle East. He’s seen thunderheads sweep across the plains. He’s listened as hail pelted windows, has felt rain like needles against his skin, felt it soak into his bones in great rushing torrents.Alex has seen a lot of storms, but he’s never seen anything like Michael.





	my heart is a storm (but you're the sunrise)

Alex has seen a lot of storms in his life. He’s seen sandstorms whip across the deserts of the Middle East. He’s seen thunderheads sweep across the plains. He’s listened as hail pelted windows, has felt rain like needles against his skin, felt it soak into his bones in great rushing torrents.

He’s weathered the storm of his childhood, his father and his years at school, getting shoved and shoving back harder. He’s weathered the loss of his mother, his first love, his leg.

Alex has seen a lot of storms, but he’s never seen anything like Michael.

Standing in the center of the cavern, pods lightly glowing just a few feet away, Michael is a hurricane. The air screams as it swirls around him, keeping them all back even as Michael sinks to the ground, clutching his head and yelling into the deafening noise. They’ve managed to bring Max back, but the strain on Michael’s powers, on his mind, has left him spiraling over the edge.

Alex aches with the need to go to him, but he knows he’s lost that right. Isobel, Max, maybe even Liz, they’re the ones who should try. He can’t claim the right to be the one to hold him. To put him back together when he’s broken him so many times.

Alex looks up and sees Isobel helping Max sit up against a wall, her attention obviously split and unsure of what to do, who to go to.

“Michael!”

Her shout is swallowed up like a drop in a tidal wave.

Liz is beside her, Max’s head on her shoulder as he starts to come around, and she looks across the darkened space to where the rest of them are crouched behind a boulder.

“Someone needs to try to stop him,” she yells.

And just like that the job falls on Alex’s shoulders, a heavy weight that he accepts and wraps himself in like a shield. They asked him to go. He’s allowed to hold him, to keep him safe. Or at the very least to try.

Alex pushes himself to his feet. Michael once told him about all the entropy inside, how music could make it go quiet. He’d told him Alex could make it go quiet, too, that something about Alex himself made Michael’s mind settle.

But that was before. Before everything with aliens and Jesse and Maria. Before deciding on _space_ because neither of them knew how to be together without falling into bed, without crashing together with so much force that they both inevitably shattered.

He takes a step out into the storm, lifting his arm to try and shield his face. It feels like walking chest-deep into the incoming tide.

“Guerin!”

Michael doesn’t even flinch at the sound of his name, fingers still tugging at his curls. Alex doesn’t know how much longer he can last without burning out, or without losing even more control and making a mistake none of them will be able to come back from. Not really.

Michael already buries himself under too much responsibility, too much guilt, for Alex to allow that to happen.

He takes another step forward and the ground trembles. Michael’s eyes are slammed shut, shoulders hunched and arms tense like he’s trying to physically hold himself together. He takes another step and suddenly the world shifts beneath him, a sharp cry from Isobel his only warning before Michael cries out and the entire cavern rumbles. Alex hits the ground at a wrong angle, pain shooting up his thigh where the prosthetic’s tugged.

The storm gets stronger, larger rocks beginning to join the dust and pebbles already caught in its pull. Alex grits his teeth and tries to stand again, falling back to the ground with a bitten off cry when his leg screams at the movement.

For just a moment, the storm slows. Alex sees Michael’s fingers twitch.

Hope blooms in Alex’s chest.

Then, Kyle yells, an anxious “Alex!” thrown into the lull that makes Michael’s head lift. He turns and looks at Alex, eyes widening in horror and fear and guilt before the storm suddenly screams back to full force around them.

It’s pain and chaos manifested in physical form and Alex wants to take it all away. Wants to keep Michael safe, give him all the quiet he needs. Tell him that he doesn’t deserve the weight he’s put on himself.

Alex hauls himself forward, a military crawl the best way he can think to avoid the chaos above and the pain still radiating from his leg below. It can’t take more than a minute but it feels stretched out into hours, those last few feet before he’s reaching out for Michael’s arm, a brush of fingers and a gentle tug before Michael goes collapsing into his chest.

Alex wraps him in his arms, giving Michael the freedom to fall apart because now Alex will be the one to keep him together. He holds on as the storm rages around them.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, just loud enough to carry. “We’re all okay.”

Michael leans heavier against Alex’s chest. His eyes are dazed and his breaths are still coming as desperate, broken pants, but he lets Alex take some of his weight, the heat of his body like a brand wherever they touch. Alex holds him tighter. He presses his mouth to Michael’s temple, whispers into the curls just above his ear. “Everyone’s safe.”

He carefully begins to pry Michael’s fingers from his hair, replaces them with his own and pushes sweat-damp curls from Michael’s forehead.

The storm is still raging around them, but in the center there’s a calm, an eye that radiates from where Alex has Michael held securely in his arms.

“Max is fine,” he says. “You did it. You brought him back.” He holds on as Michael tugs him closer, hands twisted in a death grip in Alex’s jacket. “Isobel is fine, too.”

Michael sucks in a breath, squeezes his eyes shut tight before forcing them open and looking at the ground between them. Then, he drags his gaze up and their eyes lock for one brilliant, terrifying moment.

“Alex.”

Michael’s voice is wrecked, but there’s something hopeful at the edges, just barely there beneath all the pain and fear.

Alex cups the side of his face, urges him closer until their foreheads touch. “I’m right here.”

Michael grabs his wrist and presses closer, eyes shutting and breaking off the onslaught of emotion running between them. Alex feels it like the leeched-out brightness of coming in from the sun. Like the hollow silence once a song has ended.

But Michael finally settles. He sags into Alex and the breath that leaves him sounds like relief.

The eye of the storm widens, wavers, then begins to ripple out. The tide gently brought back to the sea.

Alex hears the others begin to shift at the edges of the room, careful steps and muffled conversations as he continues to hold Michael close, soaking in the feeling of having Michael against him, the tickle of his curls and the smell of sweat and motor oil. It feels like he’s grounding himself just as much as Michael, like he’s finally found his way back to solid ground after months at sea, wobbling at the re-centering of his equilibrium but grateful for the stability beneath his feet.

He doesn’t let go until Michael lifts his head and pulls away. But he stays close even then, aware of the one-handed grip Michael still has on the edge of his jacket.

Isobel falls to her knees beside them and takes Michael’s face in her hands.

“God Michael, are you okay?”

Michael nods, a little dazed, a little sheepish. “Yeah, Iz. I’m fine.”

“That was— ” She shakes her head and pulls him in for a hug. “We are talkingabout this later.”

Then Max makes his way over and the reunion is enough to break Michael’s hold, pulled back into the orbit the three siblings have always kept with each other. Alex feels a hollow kind of longing spring up in his chest as he sits on the ground alone.

He glances over at Kyle and nods, accepting a hand up and a shoulder to lean on. He pushes down the agony of each step and refuses to stop until they’re until the wide expanse of the night sky, fresh air a relief against his face. His leg throbs and he breathes deeply through the pain.

“Enough, Alex.” Kyle is staring at him knowingly, both doctor and friend. He pushes Alex up against one of the rocks at the entrance and takes in the expression of Alex’s face. Finally, he sighs and shakes his head. “If you’re that dead set on leaving, I’m carrying you.”

Alex slumps against the rock, eyes tilted up to the sky. It feels like everything is shifting again. Like just that one, fleeting moment of balance has ruined any sort of normalcy he’d previously managed to construct. “We don’t need to leave, I just—I wanted them to have some privacy.”

Kyle gives him a look, a look that says they’ve known each other for entirely too long for him to believe any of Alex’s bullshit.

Alex sighs. “Michael doesn’t need to see me like this. He already feels bad enough as it is.” He’s learned a little honesty can go a long way in getting people off his back. He cocks a brow at Kyle. “And as tempting as your offer is, all I really need is for you to get my crutch from the car. Pretty sure I can handle the rest myself.”

“You sure? These aren’t just for show you know.” Kyle flexes his arms obnoxiously, smiles at the eye roll Alex gives him in return. Then, his face turns serious. “Maybe Michael doesn’t want to see you hurt, but that doesn’t mean he won’t want to see you at all.”

Alex shrugs. “We agreed on space. I think what he needs now is his family.”

Kyle gives him another look and shakes his head, heading off to get Alex’s crutch with firm instructions that Alex not move until he gets back.

While he waits, Alex looks up at the stars. He shuts his eyes and lets the cool air wash over his skin, focuses on the steady beat of his heart as the storm of emotions in his own chest begins to die down. He isolates the pain and confusion and loss and puts them into their own little boxes, compartmentalizes and stows away until he can open his eyes again and see clearly. Can look up at the stars without seeing a million points of pain staring back at him. Can look at them without wanting to cry.

He’s trying to run through some easy movements with his leg, assess just how badly he’s screwed it up, when someone suddenly bursts out of the cavern beside him. Their harsh breaths break up the careful quiet Alex has been basking in, but he immediately finds himself lost in the dark brown of Michael’s eyes, the way they lock onto him and won’t let go.

“Alex,” he breathes. “I thought you left.”

Alex shrugs, carefully rearranges himself to keep weight off his leg. “Wanted some air.”

He’s learned a little honesty can go a long way in getting people off his back, but sometimes the pain just isn’t worth it.

Michael’s brow furrows and the atmosphere between them shifts. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Hide what you really want to say.” Michael takes a step towards him. There’s a dangerous kind of resolution in his eyes. A challenge. “I thought you were tired of that? I thought we were going to be honest.”

“Guerin…” It comes out wary, a warning.

Michael stares at him like he can see _everything._ He takes a breath.“You called me Michael.” He takes another step forward. “You said you were there.”

He takes another step and suddenly Alex can feel the warmth of his body, can feel the heat of him sinking into every inch of his skin. Strong hands fist into the fabric of his jacket and Michael moves slowly, carefully, as he pushes their foreheads together.

The world starts to shift again beneath his feet.

Michael closes his eyes and breaths out a sigh. “I need you here, Alex. Right here. Not anywhere else.”

“I thought we agreed on space—”

Michael shakes his head.

“Space as in not falling into bed instead of talking. As in figuring out what it means to be ourselves before figuring out what it means to be _us._ ” He opens his eyes and Alex feels pinned down as Michael pulls away just enough to really look at him, to put a hand on the side of his face and brush a calloused thumb across his cheek. “I never would’ve said I wanted space if I knew it meant not having you at all.”

Alex feels his breath catch in the back of his throat. His mind is suddenly swimming, struggling to process everything that’s happened in the last half hour. It feels like it’s both spinning out of control and moving through molasses, the sudden spike of anxiety at Michael’s words at war with the cloyingly sweet warmth of his presence.

Alex can’t decide if he wants to push him away or bury his face in his neck and never let go.

He swallows.

“ _Michael_.”

It’s a plea, a benediction, a prayer.

And Michael hears him. His eyes go wide and something beautiful sparks inside them, makes the last of the tension leave his shoulders in a sudden crashing wave of hope.

He watches as Michael shatters, lights up the darkness like a million tiny stars scattered across the night sky.

The hand Michael’s still got tangled in his jacket pulls him forward and Alex gasps against his mouth, first in surprise and then in pain. His leg screams at the sudden movement and a strangled groan is forced from his lips.

Michael’s arms are around him instantly, taking all of his weight even as he shifts to push Alex back against the rock wall.

His eyes trace over him anxiously and Alex misses the brightness they’d held just moments ago, feels frustration bubble up in his chest.

“You’re hurt,” Michael says. He catches immediately on the way Alex is standing, the way he’s trying to subtly readjust. “Your leg. When…”

His eyes widen and Alex sees the exact moment that it clicks, that he remembers.

“It’s okay,” he says, trying to stave off the fear and guilt he sees growing in Michael’s eyes. He wants to curse at how quickly everything’s started to fall apart. “I’ll just have to keep my weight off it for a day or two.”

Michael drops to his knees, pawing at his pant leg. “Let me see.”

Alex feels the earth tremble.

“I said it’s fine.”

“Alex, let me see. How badly did I hurt you?”

Alex shoves at his shoulder. “I said it’s fine, Guerin. Leave it alone.”

The ground is trembling and Alex wonders when it’ll finally just open up and swallow him whole, how many times he has to destroy and rebuild its foundation before there’s nothing left to salvage.

“Goddamnit, Alex. I’ve seen you smile through a black eye and split lip and that was before you went through a war.” He glares up at Alex and pins him by the hips, a broken kind of desperation in his voice. “Now show me how badly I hurt you for you to make that sound.”

Alex pushes at him again, everything suddenly too much. “I’m wearing jeans! They won’t roll up that far and I’m not taking my pants off in the middle of the desert, now let it go! I said I’m fine.”

Michael rocks back on his heels, stares up at him for a long, painful moment.

Their breaths are the only sound in the cool, quiet of the night.

“Where’s your crutch? I’ll go get it.”

Alex can’t meet his eyes. “Kyle’s getting it for me.”

Michael nods.

They sit in silence for a minute, Michael still crouched at Alex’s feet. Finally, he swallows. “Were you even going to tell me?”

Alex still can’t look him in the eyes and Michael takes that as answer enough.

He reaches out and carefully takes one of Alex’s hands into his own. “I need you to talk to me, Alex. All of the things that you want to say but don’t, all of the things you hold back to protect me… I want to hear them. I want you to tell me. Because not knowing hurts more.”

A little honesty can go a long way, but sometimes the pain isn’t worth it. But how much can they hurt each other in the name of protection before it becomes too much?  Alex suddenly feels the weight on his own shoulders like a crushing force. He just wants to fall into the warmth Michael always brings. Wants to wrap himself up in it and never let go.

He wants to stop fighting against the storms that never seem to stop trying to pull him under.

Alex takes a steadying breath, lets everything wash over him at once. The weight of what Michael’s asking, the cold chill of fear, the drop in his stomach as he stares into a vast unknown. He opens his eyes and finds Michael staring back at him, waiting, curls wild as Alex anchors himself with them between his fingers.

“I fell wrong. I won’t know how bad it is until I get the prosthetic off.”

The words feel brittle and wrong in his mouth but there’s a growing drop of warmth in his chest at the way Michael softens. His shoulders relax and he reaches out with careful hands to frame Alex’s thigh.

“If Max wasn’t literally fresh out of his pod, I’d have him heal you,” Michael says. He rubs his thumbs over the denim, like he can soothe the pain away by touch alone. “As it is, I guess you’ll just have to settle for me stealing beer out of your fridge and throwing painkillers at you in the morning.”

His smile is small but genuine and Alex answers with one of his own. There’s so much guilt and pain between them, even now, but they’re working on moving past it. And they can keep doing that, together. They can cling to each other and weather whatever life decides to throw their way instead of letting it push them apart.

Michael leans forward to kiss between his palms and Alex gets his other hand in Michael’s hair, both caught up in just being together, in this small moment that feels like a victory.

So of course that’s when Kyle saunters up and cocks a brow. “As your doctor, I’m really not sure either of you are ready for strenuous activity. But as your friend, I’d say it’s about damn time.”

He smiles at the glare Alex shoots him, then brandishes both of Alex’s crutches. “I don’t care if it’s me, you, Michael, or the queen, but someone is taking that leg off of you and getting you home.” He points one crutch in Alex’s direction. “Speak now or I’ll just have Michael levitate you to the truck.”

“I value my life, Valenti,” Michael says, moment officially broken. He stands and grabs the crutches. “But if you want to go home in a body bag, by all means, try carrying him.”

Kyle just smirks, making his way past them. “Oh trust me, that was the first thing I offered. Now, we’ll give the both of you ten minutes to get out of here before we stop politely eavesdropping and steal Max’s cuffs to sort the two of you out ourselves.”

He disappears around the corner but not before they hear a mixture of low voices, ranging from “ _amen_ ” to hissed threats and frantic shushing.

Alex stares blankly at the sky.

Michael groans and scrubs a hand across his face. “We have terrible friends.”

Alex just sighs and starts unbuckling his belt, pushing down his jeans to get at the attaching mechanisms of his prosthetic. Michael reaches out a hand and Alex nods when he looks up at him for permission, leaning back against the rock and watching quietly as Michael detaches the device. The sock comes next and Alex hitches in a breath as Michael pulls it down, shuddering slightly at the cool air and little bursts of pain that come along with each exposed inch.

He doesn’t try to help when Michael finishes, when he works the jeans back up his hips, redoing the fly and buckling his belt. He doesn’t say a word as Michael ties a knot in the now empty pant-leg of his jeans.

Finally, Michael stands and they’re face to face again, Alex still reeling from the image of Michael’s careful hands against his skin.

Michael hands him his crutches then waits for Alex to push off the wall, falling into step beside him as they make their way back towards where they all left their cars parked off the side of the road. And if Alex feels a slight pressure around him, like he’s being carefully enveloped in a cloud, he doesn’t mention it.

The same way Michael doesn’t mention the way Alex reaches over and takes his hand once they’re in the car and on their way to the cabin.

They same way neither of them mention just how tightly they’re holding on.

And they don’t let go until they absolutely have to. Alex showers while Michael scrounges in the kitchen, leaves a hot bowl of Campbell’s soup on the bedside table for Alex to eat while Michael gets his turn in the bathroom. He wanders back out in a pair of Alex’s boxers, hair still slightly damp, and Alex imagines a life where this is everyday. Where Michael is just as much a part of his routine, his home as anything else.

Later, Alex lays on the bed and stretches out his leg while Michael plays on Alex’s guitar, chords covering up some of the sounds Alex can’t quite hold in, but that Michael tucks away nonetheless, exchanges each one for a kiss, a touch, once they’re curled up in bed. Michael presses his fingers into the skin that’s pale and unbroken, smears ointment on the chaffing and scrapes from the fall. He kisses the tension from Alex’s forehead and smooths away the lines of pain on his face.

Tectonic plates begin to shift and realign, the world around them full of a quiet, aching hope that Alex clings to.

It feels right, even as it’s new and unfamiliar, and Alex lets himself take those first few steps out into the unknown, into a future he’s only really dared to think of in the deepest parts of his mind.

Lying there in the dark, Alex pulls Michael close and tells him he wants him to stay. He grasps at the warm skin of Michael’s back and tries to get his hands to stop trembling. Michael holds him close and calls him _baby._

Alex sucks in a breath and calls him _Michael_.

The ground remains solid beneath him.

Their foreheads touch, hands warm on each other’s skin, and they settle into each other like a gentle spring rain. There’s no crashing thunder or howling winds, just the promise of another day and a chance to grow.

Alex has seen a lot of storms, but he’s never really stopped to look beyond them. Never stopped to see the bright golden halo of the sun peeking out from around the clouds.

And the next morning, when he gets to watch Michael wake up, watch brown eyes go bright and happy, curls almost blond in the morning light, he thinks maybe he’s just watched the sunrise.

He pulls Michael close and whispers into the warm skin of his neck. He tells him about storms and fears and shattered stars.

He tells him about sunrises.

 

He vows to see many, many more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr, same username


End file.
